Rock God
by ZoZo
Summary: Lance discovers the dangers of mishearing lyrics


Lance Alvers was feeling very proud of himself. The song he'd heard blasting through Todd's walls had been perfect. True, it wasn't very sentimental- in fact, it wasn't even a love-song. And granted, what sentiments there were weren't particularly nice, but he had finally found it.  
  
A song about Pietro.  
  
The song was a little old, but Lance reckoned it could still rock with the best of them. The singer had, after all, been one of the biggest Rock Gods ever. Possibly the best guitarist the world had ever known. It made him wonder who this Pietro had been- presumably, from what lyrics he could work out, a man with a gun and a lethal grudge.  
  
It fascinated him that there was a song with such an odd name to the title. Why not Peter, or Pedro? Why not something simple like Joe?  
  
Because, he reminded himself, Pietros are special.  
  
That had to be why he had tried so hard to organise his serenade. He had crept into Todd's malodourous chamber at some ungodly hour in the morning to get his hands on the CD. He had then played it, track by track until he found the Pietro song.  
  
Then he had tried to work it out on his guitar, which proved impossible. He thought he'd almost had it when Fred had crushed his hopes by asking him why he was playing 'Bavarian Sodomy' (Lance suspected and sincerely hoped that he had meant 'Bohemian Rhapsody').  
  
However, Lance soon learnt a much more impressive way to perform his serenade. It had been so blindingly obvious that he almost wanted to hit himself for not thinking of it before.  
  
Air Guitar!  
  
After all, he was pretty much a master at it. He could do it all- the headbanging, the arm-swinging, the finger-twiddling; he could execute the perfect slide across the floor on his knees with only the slightest of carpet burns. He, Lance Alvers, was a Rock God in more ways than one.  
  
By six o' clock on a Sunday afternoon, he had the whole routine worked out. He had learnt every word by heart and could now mime guitar convincingly, if not enthusiastically along with the song.  
  
His heart pounded as he waited. He took a discarded stripy tie off a chair and tied it around his head. He messed up his hair in true rock fashion and rolled up his sleeves.  
  
Where was Pietro?  
  
As it always seemed to happen, the speedster appeared as if he had read Lance's mind. In seconds, long arms wrapped themselves around him from behind and he felt warm breath on his neck, smelling a pleasant minty scent.  
  
"You look stupid," Pietro whispered into his boyfriend's ear, ever the charmer.  
  
"Shut up and sit down," growled Lance in his I-Am-The-God-Of-All-That-Rocks voice.  
  
What the Rock God did not know was that Todd and Fred were sitting on the stairs silently creasing with laughter. Lance knew not what humiliation he was about to face, but they certainly did.  
  
Pietro sat down rather tentatively as Lance switched on the portable CD player.  
  
"You gonna serenade me, Lance?" he asked with a cocky smile, secretly filling with an almost girlish, quixotic hope.  
  
Lance nodded, a wide grin spreading across his face. Oh God, Pietro was going to love this.  
  
Pietro waited patiently as Lance got himself into position and pressed the button. The look of utter concentration on the boy's face was highly amusing and rather endearing, with his brow furrowed and tongue poking out as the song began to play.  
  
Todd nudged Fred as Lance opened his mouth to sing the first line.  
  
"Pietro," sung Lance as the boy in question's eyes widened.  
  
"Where you goin' with that gun in your hand?  
  
Pietro, I said where you goin' with that gun in your hand?  
  
Alright. I'm goin down to shoot my old lady,  
  
you know I caught her messin' 'round with another man.  
  
Yeah,! I'm goin' down to shoot my old lady,  
  
you know I caught her messin' 'round with another man.  
  
Huh! And that ain't too cool."  
  
There was a faint strangled scream and a repetitive bumping sound as Todd fell down the stairs in fits of laughter.  
  
Pietro himself was finding it hard not to laugh. He bit hard on his lip as Lance took him through the rest of the song, strumming and plucking at his air guitar majestically. The rock-tumbler was trying so hard to impress him, but was unaware just how much a fool he was making of himself.  
  
By the end of the song, just when Lance was really getting into it and executing killer pelvic thrusts just inches from Pietro's face, Todd felt he could handle it no longer and fell into the room in a shrieking, giggling heap.  
  
Todd's reaction sparked off Pietro, whose laughter had been held in for too long and was released in a loud blare. Fred was also on the verge of wetting himself and the three of them clutched on to each other, howling with laughter.  
  
Lance simply stood, rooted to the spot. Why were they laughing? The Pietro song was cool. He was cool. His performance had not been funny in any way.  
  
They were rude. Rude and mean and horrible. Mustering as much dignity as he could, he threw off the tie that had served as a headband and glared at them all.  
  
"What's so funny?"  
  
He set his jaw and his lip trembled slightly as he watched Pietro roll around on the floor, gasping for breath. Ungrateful bastard. He went to all the effort of finding a song with his stupid name in it, slaved over an air guitar and this was the thanks he got?  
  
"Um, Lance," he felt Pietro's arm slide around his waist. The speed demon's laughter made him vibrate, which annoyed Lance. Stupid Pietro.  
  
"That was really great and everything, but," Pietro stifled another bout of laughter. "Jimi Hendrix wasn't singing to Pietro."  
  
"No," Lance sniffed, still hurt. "I was. It was a song with your name in it."  
  
Pietro grinned and squeezed his oblivious boyfriend's waist. Sometimes, Lance just didn't have a clue.  
  
"Look, yo," a CD case was shoved in his face by a mirth-ridden Todd.  
  
Lance sighed, skimming the list for track three- the Pietro song. His mouth fell open in horror as he read the title of the song.  
  
Hey Joe.  
  
"It was an easy mistake to make," grinned Fred.  
  
"Yeah, they do sound kinda alike, yo."  
  
Pietro pulled the crestfallen Lance into a loose embrace. Lance pouted. He had made such a stupid mistake and shown himself up. Again.  
  
"I like your version better anyway," Pietro grinned against Lance's cheek. "C'mon, Lance, you have to see the funny side."  
  
"Hmph," Lance muttered, feeling less like a Rock God and more like a rockhead.  
  
Pietro, Fred and Todd then began to sing Lance's version of the song, theatrically mimicking his air guitar playing. Lance pouted again. Not funny. Stupid, stupid. However, as Fred started smashing up his air guitar and Todd lay on his back making a strange, strangled yelping noise that could only be emulating Hendrix's guitar, he felt a smile creeping up on his face.  
  
"Uh, Pietro, I heard you shot your woman down, you shot her down. Uh, Pietro, I heard you shot your old lady down, you shot her down to the ground. Yeah!"  
  
Alright. OK. So maybe it was a bit funny. Actually, he could kind of see why the three boys had almost died laughing. Now that he knew the real lyrics, he struggled to hear how he had ever heard 'Pietro' in the first place. Perhaps the speed demon was growing on him a little too much.  
  
Pietro watched as Lance's deflated little face slowly turned to a smile and he began to laugh at himself.  
  
"Why didn't you stop me?" Lance asked as Pietro tied the stripy tie back around his unruly brown hair.  
  
"I was enjoying myself far too much," grinned Pietro. "I think this was the reason."  
  
He then proceeded to imitate Lance's pelvic thrusts, leaving the boy rather hot and bothered.  
  
"Point taken," Lance replied.  
  
"You may be a prick, Lance, but you still rock my world," Pietro simpered mockingly. Lance responded by flicking the boy lightly on the forehead. Ain't love grand?  
  
Todd and Fred took this as their cue to leave.  
  
"Am I really a prick?" Lance asked, a slightly hurt look returning to his face.  
  
"Yeah, but you're my prick," Pietro smiled widely, no innuendo intended and Lance planted a kiss on his lips. "Can I have another serenade?"  
  
Lance laughed softly, thinking of Fred's earlier blunder.  
  
"Sure," he grinned, pulling Pietro onto an armchair with him. "How about 'Bavarian Sodomy?'"  
  
Pietro frowned for a moment before a conspiratorial smile crept up on his face.  
  
"Mm, lederhosen," he mused. "It could work." 


End file.
